


The Scarlet Train

by raven30142



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Gen, Sane Tom Riddle, The Potters Live
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 06:27:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13358436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven30142/pseuds/raven30142
Summary: A girl dies from cancer and gets on the wrong train.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything except for the plotline and any original characters. Thanks for choosing to read my story!

She was in a train station.

Fourteen-year-old Sophia McCarrie frowned at the hustle-bustle of the many souls crowding the platform she was on. She struggled through the throngs of screaming, wailing, whimpering semi-transparent spirits over to a bench on the side, sitting down carefully next to an old man in strange robes. Then she stuffed her stiff, frozen fingers into the pockets of an old favourite jacket she'd thought her parents had thrown out long ago, and waited.

Time passed. Years later - or maybe only mere moments had crawled by? - Sophia sat shivering on a bench by the trains that came and went, taking the souls who moved on to whatever awaited them after death. The old man next to her had very interesting blue eyes, eyes like her mother’s, clear and bright and sparkling despite the stranger’s pale, wrinkled visage. He sat calmly, back straight and face pondering, sort of like a college professor, or maybe a priest. His robes were jet-black; although they were still a strong, real colour, unlike the pale, see-through features of everything else around them.

The other spirits - for what else could they be, after she had so clearly heard the ominous _beep-beep-beep_ finally flatline and spell her death? - kept a meter-long radius of empty space between themselves and the bench she and the old man sat on. Eventually, she turned to the elderly man and asked, “Why are you still here?”

He blinked at her over half-moon glasses, thin lips forming a genial, grandfatherly smile. “Waiting.”

“So am I,” Sophia replied. “I think I'm in shock, too. But I don't feel like boarding one of the trains. Where do you think they go, sir?”

The man chuckled, stroking his long, white beard. “Why, to the next great adventure, I would think. Or, I suppose, to the final, complete death.”

“You sound like the Headmaster from those books I used to read,” Sophia told him. “He taught witches and wizards, you know, and fought against a really powerful madman. Of course, he died in the end. Got hit and blasted off a tower.”

“Books,” the man repeated. “Ah, then you must be from one of those worlds where the world that _I_ lived in was merely a children’s storybook. Another young boy sat with me on this very same bench, you know, a very long time ago, and told me about that story. It had a very interesting plotline, if I remember correctly.”

Sophia peered at him curiously. “Oh, so you are Albus Dumbledore, then?”

“Why, yes, my dear girl. But just Albus is fine.”

“That's very cool,” she told Albus. “I didn't much like you in the books, though. You made a lot of mistakes.”

“All men make mistakes,” Albus said sombrely.

“And the greater the man, the greater the mistake,” Sophia said. “You could have done a better job in the books, true, but it's not like it's your fault things turned out the way they did. I didn't like you very much, but you were still one of the best characters.”

“Thank you, my girl,” Albus smiled, periwinkle-eyes twinkling cheerfully. “But I must inform you that things didn't exactly go the way those books of yours said.”

“So you mean that you're from an alternate dimension, then?” Sophia asked. “We talked about them in English class, once.”

“A fascinating topic,” Albus agreed. “And yes, I suppose you could say that.”

“So what happened?”

“Well,” Albus began, “Voldemort won, the first time.”

“Well that sucks,” Sophia commiserated. “Did he kill everybody?”

“He did kill _me_ ,” he said. “We had a great, dramatic duel as a final battle. He won, I lost. Last I heard - from dear Hestia, she's passed on, bless her good heart - after my unfortunate death the rest of his takeover was thankfully rather peaceful. Wizarding Britain is under his reign, and the Potters are still alive, though young Frank and Alice have regretfully moved on. And Tom has absorbed all of his Horcruxes except one, if the whispers flying around this station are to be believed. Did you know that Death’s servants are horrible gossips?”

“Really?”

“Tom, that foolish boy, is quite a hot topic among them. Apparently Death doesn't like him much.”

“Ha! I can believe that. You know,” Sophia squinted at him, “sometimes you sound like Dumbledore, but then other times you sound much younger.” She changed the subject. “Why are you wearing black?”

“Black is a colour of mourning,” Albus said calmly. “And I believe that I am in mourning, my girl.”

“That's sad,” she said. Sophia gazed into the masses of souls boarding the trains. Then her gaze switched to a train, one painted bright scarlet, unlike the pale grey of the others, that no one was boarding. “What's that red train for?”

Albus followed her gaze. “Ah, yes. I don't believe I know, actually. I have never seen anyone boarding it before. It is a mystery that I have yet to unravel.”

“Maybe I should help you, then,” Sophia mused. She felt a strange tug on her person, an unexplainable pull towards the scarlet train. She stood up, and began shoving her way through the other spirits.

“Where are you going?” Albus called out to her as the navy blue of her winter jacket faded into the silvery-grey of their surroundings. “And I don't believe that you have introduced yourself!”

“My name's Sophia!” she yelled back. “Bye! Thanks for the talk!”

And then she was gone, and Albus Dumbledore, once-upon-a-time the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was left alone once more with his own running thoughts.

“I do believe, dear Sophia,” Albus murmured to himself, eyes twinkling once more, “that I might just be seeing more of you in the near future.”

* * *

The first thing Lilith Dorea Selwyn did as a newborn was what all newborns are expected to do: she screamed and burst into tears. The midwife announced her as a healthy baby girl, no complications at all, magical levels completely normal (if a bit larger than average, but that was a good thing). Her uncle inwardly winced at the thought of even more tears and tantrums in the years to come, her father was conspicuously absent, and her mother smiled exhaustedly, relieved that her daughter had magic and would one day grow to be a fine young witch, worthy of the Selwyn name.

Of course, Lilith herself, formerly one Sophia McCarrie, had no idea just _why_ her idiot self had decided to (stupidly) take the scarlet train instead of any other train like a normal dead person. Also, magic was _real_?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith accidentally charms her uncle's hair red, and meets the Dark Lord for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, longer than the previous chap, I guess. I'll try to keep the lengths more consistent.

* * *

Her first bout of accidental magic happened when she was two - earlier than most and a sign of powerful magic, apparently.

Accidental magic was a strange thing. Young wizarding children couldn't do intentional magic - there was a reason they only started learning spells at age eleven - but strong bursts of emotion would cause children’s unstable magic to fluctuate and manifest as ‘accidental magic’.

So, at the age of two, Lilith had turned her uncle's hair bright red, the same colour as the _train-she'd-boarded-at-that-weird-imaginary?-station-where-she’d-met-Albus-bloody-Dumbledore_. She'd wanted to read her uncle's Daily Prophet - she _needed_ to know what sort of Harry Potter AU she'd landed in, Merlin dammit! - but he'd just kind of... waved her off, like many adults tend to do. It was then that her two-year-old emotions had played their part and she'd exploded into tears. There was a strange feeling, a tingle at her fingertips, and Uncle Matthew’s pretty, chin-length black hair had turned brilliant scarlet. Even redder than Weasley-red, her mother would laugh later on.

Of course, Uncle Matt had leapt up with a howl of indignation as soon as he'd felt her magic and realised what had happened to his beautiful hair. He'd sulked for days as her magic stubbornly clung to his precious locks, before her mother had told him (once again) to grow up and act like the Lord he was.

* * *

 

Lilith had, eventually, worked out what kind of world she was in. Voldemort (but no one called him that, there was only ‘the Dark Lord’) was in power, and muggleborns actually weren't second-class citizens. Just… looked down on by certain individuals. Of course, she, as Heiress Apparent Selwyn (Uncle Matt had vowed never to have children (because apparently one snot-nosed brat was enough)), was a pureblood with a magical lineage stretching back to the time of the Founders of Hogwarts.

It turned out that magic got rid of most of the problems that came with inbreeding, which was why most witches and wizards cut it a bit closer than muggles would. However, fresh blood, muggle or even from another region of the Wizarding World, did help create healthier and more powerful magical children. The healthier one’s magic was, the less muggle diseases and health problems would have affect them.

While Lilith wasn't a pureblood supremacist (she wasn't that hypocritical; Sophia hadn't had an ounce of magic in her) she did understand why others had more critical views. Spells generally flew faster than muggle bullets, and magical beasts were much more dangerous than their magicless counterparts; to adapt, wixen were stronger, faster, more _durable_ , and processed thoughts quicker. Muggle diseases wouldn't cause any problems for the average witch or wizard, and it was extremely rare for someone to be born with bad eyesight or hearing or speaking problems.

Basically, even though wixen were undeniably human, they were also something _more_.

So, the Dark Lord was the ruler of Wizarding Britain, and Lilith could concede that all things considered, he was doing a rather phenomenal job. The public loved him, he did in fact have a nose, and even former members of the Order of the Phoenix stayed quiet about their opinions. The Potters were respectable members of society, Sirius Black was even a highly-ranked Death Eater, and werewolves weren't treated all that badly. Magical creatures actually had _more_ of say than in the books, they had seats in the Wizengamot and everything, and there was even an orphanage for magical children in south London. Muggleborns were informed of their magic at age five and walked into the Wizarding World as ‘proper’ members of society. More subjects were taught in Hogwarts than in her mother’s time, and even if there was still the occasional skirmish with rebels that had slipped through the cracks since the war, Lilith thought that this world was definitely better off than in the books.

Was it a bad thing that she considered the (probably, thankfully, fortunately sane) Dark Lord ruling the country as a good thing?

In this world, the Dark Lord had begun taking over when the Potters and Sirius Black had been in school with her mother. By the time they'd graduated, Dumbledore had been killed and the reign of the Dark Lord had begun.

There was no mention of a ‘Peter Pettigrew’ in Potter or Black’s friend circle. Remus Lupin, however, was famous for being the werewolf Albus Dumbledore had tried to smuggle into Hogwarts, back when werewolves were badly discriminated against. It had been quite a hush-hush scandal, only known to those higher up in the social pyramid, but it had lost Dumbledore quite a bit of support back then. So Lupin had been expelled in his fifth year, apparently after attacking a son of House Prince, and no one had heard from him since.

(It had taken forever to dig the story out from her uncle's collection of Daily Prophet papers.)

The Dark Lord himself was a bit of a mysterious recluse. He only appeared in public events and important Inner Circle meetings, or something like that, and usually wore a cloak. Most agreed that he had red eyes, but that was all. Her Uncle Matt, even as the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, had only ever seen the Dark Lord’s face six times. Her mother, however, apparently talked with him at Wizengamot functions and certain gatherings.

It was at the age of eight that she attended her first annual Ministry Yule Ball, and caught her first glimpse of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

* * *

Lilith shifted uncomfortably in her formal robes - royal blue to match her eyes, the seamstress at Twilfitt and Tattings had cooed. She wasn't at the age where she needed to wear dresses to official occasions yet, thankfully, but they had still fussed over her clothing for a good three hours two weeks ago at Diagon Alley.

Her mother and uncle finished chatting with the Lord and Lady of some important House or the other, moving to enter the hall, and she hurried after them. As soon as the Herald - a stone-faced young man with the prestigious Death Eater mask hanging at his side - announced their arrival, she made a beeline towards the banquet table, where she and her friends had agreed to meet up.

She didn't have to wait long as she sipped impatiently on a goblet of apple juice, smiling sweetly at any elderly witch that paused to comment on her ‘pretty blue eyes’ and why she was standing by the table alone. Athena Warrington and Marcus Flint were the first to join her. They were around the same age - Marcus was a year older - and they played Quidditch together sometimes in the weekends.

Athena was a chatty girl with blond hair and brown eyes, while Marcus was quieter and also a Quidditch fanatic. Lilith had met them at Athena’s birthday party the year before, and they could probably be counted as her ‘best friends’.

Next to arrive was the friendly Cedric Diggory - and Merlin, he was cute as a kid - who was a year younger than her and Athena, while the last of their little group, the ever late-and-lazy Lee Conwyn, came a good thirty minutes later.

“You're late,” Athena rounded on him immediately.

Lee yawned, slouching. “We never really agreed on a time.”

Athena huffed, arms crossed accusingly. Lilith cut in before she could lay into the boy any more. “Never mind that; I heard that _the_ Bellatrix Lestrange is here tonight.”

Athena brightened immediately. “Well, _I_ heard that her nephew Samuel will be here, too. He's only a bit older than us, you know! And he’s really handsome.”

“You're eight,” Marcus said in disgust.

“My father said that the Dark Lord will be attending, too,” Cedric piped up solemnly.

There was an appropriate hush of awe at his words. “Do you think we might meet him?” Lilith asked, curious.

“Dad said that he's only here to meet some ambassadors from India and Vietnam or something,” Cedric said.

“I heard about that,” Lilith said. “Uncle Matt was talking about them. They want to negotiate some trade agreements with them and some other Ministries in Southeast Asia.”

“Why'd they want to meet in the middle of a ball, then?” Athena asked, crunching on an apple tart.

Lee snorted. “Well, obviously they won't be doing that _now_. This is probably a chance for the Dark Lord to make another public appearance and meet some of the Lords and Ladies who still disagree with whatever bill he's trying to push forward -”

“- and also so they can introduce people to the ambassadors and show them how well-off people are under the new Ministry,” Lilith finished. Sometimes it amazed her how smart Lee really was. “The Potters and Patils both have roots and businesses in India, and the Fenns have a house-elf contracting company based in Singapore, I think. And the E.M.U. was apparently super mad that the Dark Lord killed a bunch of people when he was coming into power.”

Cedric listened to them, wide-eyed, while Marcus grumbled something about the Indian Quidditch team and Athena waved a hand airily.

“Yes, whatever,” the blonde scoffed, grabbing hold of her hand and dragging her away from the table. The boys followed them obediently, though Lee bristled a bit at her casual dismissal. “Let's go look for Samuel! I bet he's super dreamy…”

Lilith grinned wryly at Marcus’s disgruntled expression. That was the beginning of a crush there, definitely.

* * *

“- probably a chance for the Dark Lord to make another public appearance and meet some of the Lords and Ladies who still disagree with whatever bill he's pushing forward -” the sleepy-looking boy, Conwyn’s son, was saying.

Narcissa Malfoy raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow in amusement as she and her husband, along with Severus Prince listened in on the conversation of the five youngsters loitering by the banquet table.

“- also so they can introduce people to the ambassadors and show them how well-off people are under the new Ministry,” Lilith Selwyn, whose mother often came by for tea, said. “The Potters and Patils both have roots and businesses in India, and the Fenns have a house-elf contracting company based in Singapore, I think. And the E.M.U. was apparently super mad that the Dark Lord killed a bunch of people when he was coming into power.”

The three watched as the group was dragged off to look for dear Bella’s darling nephew by the Warringtons’ second child, who rambled a mile a minute about twelve-year-old Samuel’s crooked smile.

“That was Elisabeth’s daughter, then? The one who can quote Greek philosophers and Shakespeare?” Patricia Parkinson commented, small brown eyes sharp as they trailed after the group children.

Severus scowled. “What _I_ would like to know is how a child like her would know anything about the methods used during the war. Elisabeth certainly wouldn't tell her.”

Patricia gave a very unladylike snort. “Oh, lighten up Severus.”

Lucius chuckled elegantly. “It's a public secret that Matthew collects newspaper clippings. Young Lilith likes to flip through them, I believe.”

Narcissa hid a smile behind her goblet of sweet red wine. She and Elisa had been talking lately about the possibility of a marriage contract between her Draco and Elisa’s girl. Now she could see that it would never work; Lilith would be better off leading House Selwyn in Wizengamot politics, succeeding her mother.

Perhaps she could arrange a playdate…? No, Draco was too young yet to mingle with Lilith and her friends…

* * *

“- Did you see him?! His eyes are _sooo_ pretty! Not as pretty as yours, of course, Lily-darling, but definitely at least a nine out of ten!”

Lilith sighed mentally in fond exasperation as Athena swooned over Samuel Lestrange, who they had just talked with. Granted, he had been very handsome - his pale green eyes were very intense - but he was only twelve! Athena was only _eight_! What were wizarding parents teaching their children?

“Well I thought he was bloody stuck-up,” Marcus grumbled. “He kissed your hand!”

“ _You_ kissed my hand when we first met!” Athena snapped back. Marcus reddened, while Cedric and Lee sniggered. Lilith’s lips twitched into an amused grin. “And don't swear, Marcus, or I’ll tell your mum!”

Marcus spluttered. “Oh, don't be such a tattletale!”

Athena puffed up indignantly. “Well, _really_   _-"_

Lilith wasn't listening at that point. Her eyes were drawn to a wizard in forest green robes conversing with a number of important-looking people, most notably a delegation of three Indian wizards and a Vietnamese witch. He radiated a powerful presence, and only then did she notice the subtle press of magic, barely-there, on her shoulders.

It was then that the pale, dark-haired wizard happened to glance her way, their gazes meeting for a single moment, blood-red ( _like the train_ , something whispered in the back of her mind) on deep, royal blue.

And Lilith knew who she was looking at.

( _Voldemort_ , Sophia’s American accent hissed warily somewhere in her consciousness.)

It was only for a moment, then the Dark Lord glanced away dismissively, and she could breathe again.

“Lily-darling? _Lily-darling_!” Athena’s concerned voice drowned out her other thoughts. Lilith realised that they had stopped walking, and that her friends were all looking at her wide-eyed, and that she had been staring.

“It's nothing,” she said, trying for a smile. “Just lost in thought, is all.”

Athena nodded cautiously, before launching into another argument with Marcus, this time drawing Lee into their squabble while Cedric watched and snickered by the side. Lilith was quiet as they wandered around aimlessly.

She knew now why people followed the Dark Lord. His magic was intoxicating, Dark and pure and powerful. It felt like - like she would do _anything_ for just a sliver of that attention.

She shivered, the man’s ( _is he, though?_ ) cold red eyes reminding her of the train station, and her talk with Albus.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Department of International Magical Cooperation is canon, and took care of the Quidditch Cup, cauldron thickness, international relations, that sort of thing
> 
> The EMU is the European magical union
> 
> Lilith and Athena and Lee are... four years older than Harry? Marcus is five years older, Cedric is three
> 
> Uncle Matt doesn't like kids. He like diplomacy and treating with other delegations, though, and the Daily Prophet, the EuroWixen Times, and the Financial Press, which are newspapers popular in Britain, Europe, and internationally, respectively
> 
> Elisabeth is Lilith's mum. She rocks, and is in charge of the Selwyn seats 
> 
> Patricia Parkinson is Pansy's mum
> 
> So in the war, House Prince (who Snape hates cuz they kicked his mum out) was killed off and Snape was granted lordship. So now it's Professor Prince
> 
> (Sirius still calls him Snivellus)
> 
> Wormtail and Moony are nowhere to be found!
> 
> Also, I based Lee Conwyn on Nara Shikamaru
> 
> Thanks for staying with me,  
> Raven


End file.
